An Unlikely Savior ~ (Edit) COMPLETED

Chapter 13 ~ Revealing the Past

Snape had time to think about how he was going to approach telling Eileen about the truth of her parentage. How the mother she thought abandoned her was not her mother at all, but a surrogate, and her true mother was a witch that she’d never met, who never knew she even existed.

Initially, he was going to start at the Shrieking Shack, unleashing all of his bitterness at being left to die after all he had sacrificed. But, he decided it would be best if Eileen knew his entire painful story, from his childhood at Spinners End, to his meeting Lily Potter, about the Marauders, joining Voldemort, Lily’s death and his subsequent service to the Order as a spy for Albus Dumbledore and protector of Harry Potter.

He’d show her everything that led up to that fateful day in the Shrieking Shack, and then—then he would show her his rescue of Hermione Granger and how he secured a Life Debt from her.

Then—he’d let her know about the ritual and what he had done.

That would be, in his estimation, the best approach. He had never told Eileen the full story of his life, only bits and pieces. But she needed to see how it was for him, how alone he was—maybe then she could understand why he wanted a child of his own and the lengths he went to in order to secure that child. To secure her.

Snape closed the shop and he and Eileen headed for home. They flew side by side, using the Locomordres spell taught to him long ago by Voldemort. Eileen never used it at Hogwarts, but she loved flying this way. It made her feel like the English version of Supergirl. They landed in front of the secluded cottage that rested on twenty acres of moor, Snape letting her in.

Eileen set about making dinner as her father retrieved four Pensieves and sat down in one of two armchairs set before the fireplace. He ignited the hearth, then set about placing his memories in the Pensieves.

Eileen came in while he was doing this, but said nothing as she watched him fill the bowls with silvery strands. His memories were still sharp. Giving them out did nothing to diminish them. Placing memories in a Pensieve only allowed them to be examined in greater detail because they could be viewed rather than remembered. So he left nothing out.

By the time he was finished, Eileen called him in to eat. Snape left the Pensieves in the living room and joined his daughter at the small kitchen table. She had made a quick chicken and vegetable stew with crusty bread and pumpkin juice. Snape sat down with her, and they took their customary moment of reflection before they began their meal.

”Dad, all those Pensieves, are they for me?” she asked him.

Snape nodded.

”Yes, Eileen, they are. Those bowls contain the story of my life, and what it was like for me as a child, a young man and an adult wizard. The first bowl contains my childhood. The second bowl contains my years at Hogwarts. The third bowl contains my service as a spy and protector. The fourth bowl contains—well, you will see what it contains when you view it,” he said, his face turning drawn.

Eileen noticed his expression and felt rather afraid.

”Dad, what’s in the fourth bowl?” she asked him.

”Truth. A truth I’ve kept hidden from you. Something you need to know—concerning the most selfish act I’ve ever committed. Something—that concerns you,” he said quietly.

“But you’ve never been selfish concerning me,” Eileen said to him. “You’ve always been there for me. Maybe you didn’t give me everything I wanted, but still you’ve always been here for me, Dad.”

Snape didn’t respond as his belly tightened. Maybe Eileen wouldn’t understand after all. Maybe—maybe she’d hate him and turn away from him, like so many others had. But this would be a far worse abandonment. She was his one light, and if that light was extinguished, his despair would be devastating.

”Eat your food, Eileen,” he said shortly. “Then, you’ll view the first Pensieve and if you like, we can discuss it.”

They finished their meal in a heavy silence, Eileen glancing at her father as he studiously focused on the bowl of stew before him. He looked—upset. What was in that last Pensieve?

Finally, they finished their meals and Eileen washed up the dishes and pots while her dad went into the living room. When she finished drying and putting everything away, she joined him.

”Sit on the sofa,” her father instructed her. The four Pensieves were lined up in a row on the small coffee table in front of the sofa. Eileen sat down before the first one on the left and looked up at her father.

”You might find much of this disturbing, Eileen, but as you know, Life isn’t always pretty. Go on, enter the first Pensieve,” Snape said, his face sober.

Eileen looked down into the Pensieve and fell still. Snape sighed. He had never told her about what his childhood and home life was like. He had been poor and his father had been abusive to both Snape and his mother, Eileen. He had no friends at all until he met the beautiful, kind little girl in the park and her horsey-faced sister. Lily Evans and Petunia. Lily was a witch, and despite his odd clothes and poverty, she liked him. And because of her kindness, he adored her.

After about forty-five minutes, Eileen came out of the Pensieve, and looked up at her father, her eyes wet.

”Your father was a bastard,” she breathed, blinking at him. “Why didn’t your mother kill him? He was a Muggle. He didn’t have magic. All it would have taken was the Killing curse.”

”My mother was afraid of him, Eileen. He’d taken away all her fire—and he’d thought about the possibility she might retaliate, so he snapped her wand. We were defenseless.”

Eileen sat there, thinking a butcher knife would have come in handy. Her grandmother had a victim mentality. She studied her dad. He had been so poor, so poor the he wore his father’s old clothes. Long black shirts, taken in trousers and a black coat that dragged on the ground. A lot of children picked on him, pushing him around, chasing him and throwing stones. He tried to fight back, but there were so many of them. So, he skulked about much of the time, trying not to be seen or targeted. Staying in the house only meant beatings, so he stayed away. And then he met a little girl, a witch, and she became his only friend. Her name was Lily Evans, and they were practically inseparable. At least he had someone.

”Whatever happened to your friend Lily?” Eileen asked him.

”The next Pensieve will cover that topic,” Snape said tightly.

Eileen nodded and moved to the right a little, so she was directly in front of the second Pensieve. She looked down into it and froze again.

Snape began pacing. This time Eileen was in the Pensieve for more than an hour. When she came out, she was furious.

”Dad—“ she said hoarsely, unable to voice how mad she was. The entire time he was at Hogwarts, he was picked on by James Potter and Sirius Black. There were two other wizards that were always with them, a fat little wanker named Peter, who only joined in attacking him when the others had him at a disadvantage, and a rather sad, sickly looking one, who never did anything but watch. His name was Remus and he didn’t look as if he liked what was happening, but he never said anything. He was a werewolf and nearly killed her father. When her father went to Dumbledore, he didn’t do anything about it. And Lily Evans turned her back on him and started going out with James, the main wizard who picked on him.

“Dad, wouldn’t anyone help you?” she asked him.

”I was a loner, Eileen. And poor. To be poor in Slytherin house was difficult. I was ostracized for the most part and threw myself into learning charms and potions. It was only when my skills and abilities became common knowledge that anyone in that house gave me the time of day. Lily helped me with charms and I helped her with potions—until, well you saw what happened—“

”Yes, I saw. I saw you were angry and said something you didn’t mean. What kind of friend turns her back like that? She knew you didn’t have anyone else, really. You might have associated with the other Slytherins but you were in that house after all. She just judged you and turned away from you. Then—she went out with Potter. That had to hurt. I see why you joined the Death Eaters. Your parents were dead and you didn’t have anyone.”

Snape just blinked at her, then Eileen asked, “How did they die, dad?”

In the Pensieve she saw him standing in a run-down graveyard. It was drizzling rain and two cheap wooden coffins were being lowered into the ground on ropes. There was only one hole and the coffins were placed one on top of the other as her father stood there and watched. He was alone and couldn’t have been more than sixteen.

”My father strangled my mother to death in a fit of drunken rage, then threw himself into the river and drowned,” he said softly as Eileen stared at him.

”That’s horrible,” she breathed, her heart aching for her father. It happened shortly after Lily had abandoned him. “Dad, your whole life was horrible. However did you stand it?”

”It was my life, Eileen. I had to accept it as it was,” he replied heavily.
Eileen now understood why her dad didn’t socialize. He had been treated so badly by people, by his father, his one friend, and the students at Hogwarts. He had always been an outcast and not by choice. Eileen chose not to get involved with her fellow students, the exception being Alsop. Still, he was related to James Potter. He was his grandson. She frowned slightly.

”The next Pensieve,” Snape instructed.

This was the Pensieve that showed him taking the mark after graduation, creating the elixir that turned Tom Riddle into Voldemort, the death of the Potters and how Albus pressed him into service. It also showed his suffering at the hands of Voldemort and how difficult it was to keep Harry, Hermione and Ron from running afoul of the Dark Lord, and—it showed Dumbledore ordering him to kill him and what it was like to be in hiding. Lastly, it showed him near death in the Shrieking shack.

Eileen slid down on the sofa and entered the next Pensieve. It took more than two hours to view it, and tears rolled down her cheeks at intervals. Snape dabbed them off her expressionless face with his handkerchief. She was crying but still inside the Pensieve. She was probably viewing his tortures. She finally came out of it, her brown eyes haunted as she stared at her father.

”Oh dad—dad---“ she breathed, then suddenly sobbed and launched herself off the sofa and into his arms. Snape held his daughter tenderly, smoothing her hair and telling her not to cry, that it was all in the past. All that pain was in the past.

But for Eileen, it was in the present. All he had gone through, how he suffered. How Lily’s memory led him to protect her son, Alsop’s father, even though they hated each other. A younger Mrs. Weasley was in there too. She had been a brilliant, but irritating witch, an over-achiever. And the wizard she nearly killed was there as well, Ron Weasley.

Her dad had been a bastard of a teacher, but considering all he was going through, it was a wonder he could teach at all. He was in the infirmary a lot too, being treated for his wounds and the effects of the Cruciatus. At least he was able to Apparate to his quarters. At least Dumbledore gave him that. And then, gods, he had to kill the old wizard and everyone believed him a traitor. That had to be the most painful part of all for him. Her dad was loyal to a fault, and lived a thankless life in service to the Greater Good. Then Voldemort tried to kill him.

Eileen had seen the two scars on his throat, but he only told her it was an injury he received during his service. But to witness that huge snake biting him and the blood gushing over his fingers was horrible. But she heard his thoughts. He wordlessly cast an Episkey spell, but he was weak and it took time for the spell to bring him to the point he could fish out a vial of Phoenix tears to further heal the wounds.

During that process, he had given Harry his memories, silvery vapor pouring out of his face. Mrs. Weasley was there again, giving Harry a bottle to catch them in. Then her father fell unconscious. He looked as if he were dead. The three students left him there.
Snape then roused and shakily took out the vial of tears. He had barely enough to staunch the wound, it healed but his throat was still torn and he tore a piece of his shirt off and tied it around his throat. Then he left the Shrieking Shack. That’s where the Pensieve ended.

”Eileen, let me go,” Snape said to his daughter softly, gently pulling her away.

Eileen let go and wiped her face with her robes sleeve, staring up at him.

”Dad—why—why do I have Mrs. Weasley’s name?” she asked him, her voice trembling. “I didn’t see anything that she did to make you want to name me after her. She was smart, but she never did anything for you. Did you just like the name?”

“The reason you have her name, Eileen, is in the next Pensieve,” he said softly. “That is the final chapter to this story, the part where I decided I’d suffered enough and deserved something good in my life. No one was going to give it to me—so I took it. And I’ve never regretted my selfishness. Now, would you like to take a break before viewing the final Pensieve?”

Eileen sniffled, her red eyes starting to clear. Her father seemed paler than usual as he looked at her. She sat back down on the sofa in front of the last Pensieve.

”No. I want to see it now,” she said, looking down into it and falling still.

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A/N: Aaaand, it’s crunch time. Eileen is about to receive a startling revelation. I did my best to crunch Snape’s entire existence into a few paragraphs. Yeesh. It could have been chapters and chapters, but we all basically know his story, so rehashing it in detail would have been a bit boring in my estimation. I added some non-canon details, of course, but that was the best I could do in summing it all up. Thanks for reading. ***